


Twilight in the Vale of Anduin

by HASA_Archivist



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Fourth Age, General
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-18
Updated: 2015-04-18
Packaged: 2018-03-23 13:08:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3769659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HASA_Archivist/pseuds/HASA_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A young Rohir sets out to find the definition of becoming a man - in the Vale of Anduin - early in the Fourth Age.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Twilight in the Vale of Anduin

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the HASA Transition Team: This story was originally archived at [HASA](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Henneth_Ann%C3%BBn_Story_Archive), which closed in February 2015. To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in February 2015. We posted announcements about the move, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this author, please contact The HASA Transition Team using the e-mail address on the [HASA collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/hasa/profile).

The green sea of the Wold lay stretched out before him as far as his eye could see. Far to the west sat Fangorn afoot the southern tips of the Misty Mountains. He had little intention of going anywhere near there, in spite of the latest rumours of creatures friendly to his kin.  
With luck he would make the Limlight Crossing in two days and leave behind his kin and his innocence. The journey to the Ered Mithrin would take some time, but then, what was the hurry?

His father had ridden with the Rhorrim in the Battle of the Pelennor Fields. Raecla had grown up hearing those stories time and time again. Horrible times filled with men of great deeds coming to the rescue of the very earth itself. His father loved to retell the stories sitting round the hearth at night, stories of that battle and battles long past, battles that shaped the nation of Rohan.

He could recount them to you verbatim, so many times he had heard them. But the world was changing. The king once again sat enthroned in Gondor as in the days of old, and a new peace and a new order was being forged upon the earth.

It seemed to Raecla that Rohan had been formed more from chaos, unlike the other kingdoms of the world. To him it became apparent that a man, too, was often forged strongest beneath the hammer of chaos and the threat of evil. But those threats were fading and chaos with them.

The old threat was gone, that horrible shadow whose name is best unmentioned. Still his minions lived, hiding themselves for fear of the coming light, and always seeking revenge. But Rohan now lived in peace nestled amid many allies. What fame might a young soldier find in such a land? How might a boy gain the approval of his father in battle, when battles were becoming the things of history?

So he had set out on his own. Father had given him Elruma, a faithful dappled grey. Braedda was his dog, after all, and the stupid beast would not be left behind. Together they walked, the three of them. No need to hold Elruma’s reigns, the horse knew him well enough to stay close at hand. The midday sun bore down on them, but not uncomfortably. Winter was receeding and surrendering its icy grip to spring and the days were yet cool.

Raecla whistled as he walked, Braedda looking up to him from time to time to question his ability to hold the tune. Elruma simply ignored him and walked on wondering where his master was leading him. Raecla did not know himself. He only knew that in the peace that was settling upon the land a boy might sharpen his sword in the north, where remnants of goblins and orcs still lay hidden in Ered Mithrin. Even the mountains to the west still held enclaves of the foul beasts. And Mirkwood itself concealed mysteries and dangers untold.

The Vale of Anduin was the place for him to set his name, to find his fame and fortune, and prove himself a man. His hand drifted down to the hilt of the sword fastened to his side and his eyes gleamed as he thought of the havoc he would wreck upon the unsuspecting goblin hordes.


End file.
